Dark Under the Cover of Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 1)

by Jayne Castel

  Not for the first time, Caelin wondered at the deep-seeded hatred behind Ceolwulf’s quest for gnyrnwracu, revenge. He had always thought that there was more to this whole story than what his father had divulged – but for a long time it had been enough that Raedwald had wronged Ceolwulf, and would have to pay for it.

  Now though, the whole affair was making Caelin uneasy.

  Caelin took another sip of mead and shifted his gaze back to the dancing flames in the fire pit. Truthfully, he had not enjoyed today. The ambush had been bloodier than he had anticipated and they had treated Lady Raedwyn roughly. Caelin’s thoughts focused then on Raedwyn the Fair.

  She was a goddess – the kind of woman that men started wars over. He itched to tangle his fingers in her mane of blonde curls. A man could drown in her deep-blue eyes, and her full, sensual lips begged to be kissed. He wondered if she had any idea of the stir she had created amongst his father’s men – the camp was alive with talk about their fair captive.

  Woden and Thor save me, she’s delicious. The soft swell of her breasts, that narrow waist and those curving hips were a man’s dream. She had stood tall and proud before him after the ambush, staring at him with a boldness that had taken Caelin’s breath away. Men dreamed of bedding such a fiery beauty – although she had not yet spent a night under his father’s roof, Ceolwulf had already lost his temper with her.

  She was as dangerous as a siren, Caelin mused. His father would do well to keep her out of sight so that she did not distract his men.

  Finishing his mead, Caelin joined the rest of Ceolwulf’s warriors as they settled in for the evening. Many stretched out next to the fire pit on their cloaks while Caelin found a space for himself against the wall. He lay there, listening to the rumble of men’s voices and tried to get comfortable on the hard dirt floor. His father had gained his first victory, but this one would be his easiest.

  Much more blood would be shed before Ceolwulf the Exiled would have his reckoning.

  Chapter Four

  The scent of wet earth and vegetation laced the cool morning air. Raedwyn stepped outside Ceolwulf’s hall and inhaled deeply. The surrounding woodland glistened after the rain, and water dripped off the thatched roofs. The ground was muddy and all around her Ceolwulf’s settlement bustled with activity. A rider had left at dawn, bound for Rendlaesham and Raedwald’s Hall, to state Ceolwulf’s terms. Raedwyn imagined her father’s reaction to the news of his daughter’s abduction, and shuddered. The king’s wrath would be terrible.

  Ceolwulf’s men were preparing for battle. Raedwyn watched them sharpening their weapons, mending armor and shields, and sparring with each other. Picking up her skirts to avoid muddying them, Raedwyn threaded her way slowly amongst the huts. Two warriors followed her. She could feel their eyes on her as she walked ahead. Men stopped working and stared at her as she passed.

  After many hours cooped up inside her bower, Raedwyn felt relief to finally be outside in the fresh air and stretch her legs. She had dressed in a sky-blue linen dress over a white tunic. Like many of the dresses she had packed, this one left her arms bare, and usually she would have adorned it with a gold chain around her hips and gold arm rings. However, today, she had kept her attire as plain as possible and tied back her blonde curls.

  The cool air kissed the skin of her bare arms and, looking skyward, Raedwyn caught sight of the sun rising about the edge of the trees. It would be a hot day, and by rights she should have been sailing south on Cynric’s long ship, to her new life. Not for the first time, she regretted her uncharitable thoughts towards her dead husband. She hoped Woden had not read her thoughts and was now punishing her for them.

  Raedwyn was so caught up in introspection that she nearly walked into the midst of a group of warriors practicing swordplay.

  “M’lady!” One of her guards grasped Raedwyn’s arm and pulled her up sharply.

  Two warriors wielding heavy swords were fighting directly in front of her. One of them was Caelin.

  Raedwyn suppressed a flinch as the sword-blades clashed an arm’s length away from her face. Caelin, dressed only in loose breeches, cross-gartered to the knee, was sweating heavily despite the morning’s coolness. Raedwyn watched him fight. His long, dark hair was tangled with sweat and his body, though lean, was muscular and broad-shouldered. He moved with fluid grace, concentrating fully on the fight.

  It was only when his opponent slipped in the mud and yielded, that Caelin realized he had an audience.

  Caelin’s eyes widened when he saw Raedwyn staring at him, and his gaze locked with hers.

  “Lady Raedwyn.” He sheathed his sword and nodded brusquely.

  Raedwyn felt a blush bloom on her cheeks and hated herself for it. Why did this man affect her so?

  “My Lord Caelin,” she said stiffly. “You fight well.”

  “My Lord?” Caelin’s mouth twisted into an ironic half-smile. “My father was an ealdorman but I hold no such rank.”

  Raedwyn felt her cheeks flame even hotter. She looked down at her clasped hands and wished she was back in her bower. Silence stretched between them then and Raedwyn felt the blush slide down her neck and bloom across her chest. He had just made her look like a fool.

  “Did you sleep well milady?” Caelin spoke finally, moving away from where the others continued to practice swordplay. Raedwyn fell into step beside him as he walked through the village, back towards Ceolwulf’s hall.

  “No, I did not,” Raedwyn replied, before she stopped and met his gaze. “What will become of me?”

  Caelin held her gaze. For the first time he appeared uncomfortable and unsure of how to answer.

  “Your father will not keep his word,” Raedwyn continued, her voice low. “I will be raped and murdered here.”

  Caelin’s face stiffened. “We are not savages milady. My father, for all his rough manners is no murderer. Raedwald left him with no choice. He only wants back what your family stole from him.”

  “And what was that?” Raedwyn asked.

  “His pride and dignity,” Caelin replied, “and nearly twenty years of life lost in a land he hated.”

  “I imagine Gaul is not so vile,” Raedwyn answered him, and wondered, once again, what had happened to her half-brother, Sigeberht, in Gaul. Raedwald was a fair man and a good king, but he was not to be crossed. His good opinion, once lost was lost forever. She understood him well for she had the same temperament.

  Caelin laughed at her comment. “Raedwyn the Fair, you have never left these shores,” he teased her. “You know nothing of what lies beyond the flat horizon of this kingdom by the sea.”

  Raedwyn bit the inside of her cheek to prevent a sharp retort. Caelin treated her like a naïve, foolish maid. His comment stung and she wanted to hit back. However, her temper had gotten her into trouble yesterday, and now she found herself a little afraid of men.

  They had reached the main entrance to Ceolwulf’s hall and Caelin turned to Raedwyn, his dark gaze ensnaring hers.

  “Raedwyn.” Caelin’s expression had become serious and the teasing tone was gone from his voice. “After last night, I can understand your fears, but you will come to no harm here I promise you that. Upon my honor.”

  Raedwyn watched his retreating back as he went off with his men to eat.

  “Honor?” Raedwyn’s mouth twisted. “You do not know the meaning of the word.”

  ***

  The day stretched on and Raedwyn spent most of it enclosed within the walls of her bower. Only at dusk did her guards allow her out once more for a stroll around the village. She had not seen Caelin for the rest of the day and, since he was the only one who bothered speaking to her, Raedwyn spent the day in silence.

  That evening, Raedwyn remained in her bower when Ceolwulf and his men entered the hall. The aroma of roasting mutton hung thickly in the air, reminding Raedwyn of how hungry she was. It surprised her that she still had an appetite. She would have thought seeing her husband killed, and her own abduction, would have put her off food, bu
t it had not. After last night’s skirmish, she doubted Ceolwulf would demand she ate with them. However, she hoped they would not forget about her – the delicious smell of roast mutton was making her mouth water.

  Wondering how long it would take before they remembered she had not yet eaten, Raedwyn perched on her pile of furs and waited.

  It was a long while before her curtain twitched and Caelin looked inside.

  “I thought you might be hungry.”

  “Starving.” Raedwyn eyed the platter of mutton cuts, a wedge of coarse bread and a pile of small boiled onions he carried in one hand, and the clay cup of mead he carried in the other.

  Caelin placed the plate and cup on a low wooden table and turned to leave.

  “Enjoy.”

  “You can keep me company while I eat if you like?” Raedwyn blurted out.

  What in Woden’s name made me say that?

  Caelin turned and looked quizzically at her.

  “Milady?”

  “It gets tiresome being closeted in here all day,” Raedwyn replied hesitantly, regretting her request but too proud to take it back. “I’m used to my father’s hall. I miss having someone to talk to.”

  Deciding that she had humiliated herself enough for one day, Raedwyn sat down on the floor and began her meal. After a moment’s hesitation, Caelin sat down opposite her, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Aware of his eyes on her, Raedwyn ate the mutton, onions and bread. It was plain but good fare.

  “So you were born at Rendlaesham?” she asked finally, licking grease off her fingers.

  “I was, Milady.”

  “You don’t have to keep addressing me as ‘Milady’. Call me Raedwyn.” She surveyed him over the brim of her cup. “How old were you when you left?”

  “Nine winters; a young lad, but old enough to understand that I was no longer welcome in the only home I had ever known.”

  “Why did you not stay with your mother?”

  “She died giving birth to me. My father is the only family I have.”

  Raedwyn digested this information. That explained his dogged loyalty to Ceolwulf.

  “Did you ever see me?”

  “Once.” Caelin grinned at her. “You probably don’t remember. You had just turned four and had lost your puppy, Wuffa. I found him for you.”

  The memory brought a smile to Raedwyn’s face.

  “That was you? Of course I remember! It’s one of my earliest memories – the boy in the orchard who rescued Wuffa. I looked out for you after that but never saw you again.”

  “My father was exiled shortly after,” Caelin replied, before adding mischievously. “Did Wuffa grow into a ferocious wolf?”

  Raedwyn’s smile widened. “He did. Wuffa was my father’s favorite on the hunt for many years, until he got too old to run with the horses.”

  Their gazes met once more and air inside the bower suddenly seemed heavier than before. Caelin broke the spell. He rose to his feet to retrieve her empty plate and cup. Raedwyn handed the plate to him, accidentally brushing his hand with hers as she did so. Caelin pulled away as if she had burned him and backed up towards the curtains

  “Good night Raedwyn,” he gave her an enigmatic parting smile. “Sleep well.”

  ***

  Raedwyn stirred amongst the furs. She languished in the softness for a moment, rolling onto her back and stretching like a cat. Outside, Ceolwulf’s settlement was already awake. Raedwyn could hear the bleating of sheep and goats, as men herded them past her bolted window, and the rumble of voices. The aroma of a stew cooking made her stomach growl. This village may have been makeshift, but it functioned like any other settlement. Raedwyn yawned and sat up. Despite everything, she had slept well – better than she had in a long while. Raedwyn could not remember feeling so clear headed. Her senses were as sharp as a sword’s edge this morning.

  Raedwyn washed and, using a bone comb her brother Raegenhere had carved for her many years before, laboriously untangled her long, blonde hair. Then she broke her fast with a piece of bread and a cup of goat’s milk.

  When Raedwyn stepped outside for her walk a short while later, the two guards that Ceolwulf had assigned to escort Raedwyn at all times, fell into step behind her. She had dressed in a forest-green dress and tied her hair back with a matching ribbon. All of the clothes in her bags were unsuitable for life as Ceolwulf’s captive. They were too showy, and Raedwyn felt the wolfish gazes of Ceolwulf’s men follow her as she walked. Nonetheless, Raedwyn walked tall and ignored the attention she was attracting.

  Raedwyn was half-way across the village when she spied Ceolwulf. Having not seen the warrior since he had banished her to her bower, Raedwyn felt apprehension flower within her upon catching sight of him. Her confidence wavered. Ceolwulf was over-seeing the sword-smith’s work; testing that the blades were sharp and weighted properly.

  Ceolwulf looked up, and his eyes narrowed when he saw the attention Raedwyn was attracting. His men were stopping work to gawk at her like pubescent boys.

  “Get back to work!” he bellowed. “Have you not seen a fine bit of female flesh before?”

  Raedwyn felt her cheeks flame and she bit back a sharp reply.

  The huge man was as intimidating and unkempt as usual. His mane of dark hair was tangled and his wild beard obscured most of his face. Ceolwulf wore an intense, almost maniacal expression as he caught Raedwyn’s eye.

  “As lovely as a rosebud you are Raedwyn the Fair. It’s no wonder my men forget themselves when you walk by. Yet, they need no distraction from their work. Go back to your bower now and stay there till I give you leave.”

  “Are your men so weak willed that a woman amongst them is enough to turn them from their work?” The words were out before Raedwyn could stop them. Despite her flaring temper, Raedwyn’s heart thundered against her ribs as she spoke. She had not forgotten the feel of the back of Ceolwulf’s hand. He still terrified her.

  Much to her chagrin, the giant laughed.

  “So fair and yet such a shrew,” he rumbled. “You are so like your mother.”

  Raedwyn clenched her jaw. She was not a shrew – and neither was her mother.

  “It seems any woman who does not take a liking to you is named a shrew,” Raedwyn replied, watching his brow darken as she spoke but continuing nonetheless. “It’s little wonder I see no women among your ranks!”

  “My men have sacrificed much to serve me,” Ceolwulf replied in a dangerously quiet voice. “Females are a distraction, as your presence here proves. It’s your good fortune that I need you alive as a bargaining tool Raedwyn the Fair, or I’d have wrung your neck by now. Get yourself back to your bower.”

  Raedwyn’s temper erupted again. Terrified as she was of Ceolwulf, she was unused to being addressed in such a rude manner. Her father had always spoken to her with respect, as had her brothers. Her fingers clenched tightly at her sides, her nails biting into her palms. Not for the first time she wished she had been born a man.

  Raedwyn’s next course of action, whether it was to defy Ceolwulf or submit to his will, was interrupted as voices on the far side of the glade reached them.

  “Word from Raedwald, M’lord!”

  Raedwyn watched as a travel-stained rider atop a stocky dun horse, trotted briskly through the settlement. Defiance forgotten, Raedwyn realized that her father had learnt of her abduction.

  Caelin appeared beside his father, his sharp-featured face impassive as he watched the rider approach.

  The rider pulled his horse up before Ceolwulf. He was a grizzled warrior covered in battle scars and with a face that seemed hewn from stone.

  “What news?” Ceolwulf barked.

  “I have given Raedwald your terms m’lord,” the rider replied, “and I made it clear that if I was harmed or if he breaks our agreement in any way, his daughter will have her throat cut.”

  Raedwyn’s hand went instinctively up to her exposed throat. She felt eyes on her and looked across at Caelin. Their gazes met. The enigmatic
expression he usually wore had slipped slightly and she saw concern cloud his dark eyes for a moment. Despite his promise she would not come to any harm here, Raedwyn’s life was seriously threatened.

  Ignoring Raedwyn’s reaction to his words, the rider continued. “Raedwald has agreed to meet us in battle on Uffid Heath at dawn of the next full moon with a fyrd of two-hundred men – no more – no less.”

  Ceolwulf’s hairy face split into a wide grin. He turned to Raedwyn, giving her a mocking bow.

  “In just three nights, your father will meet his maker. Did I not tell you Raedwald would do anything to have his precious daughter returned to him?” Ceolwulf jeered. “Not such a fearless warrior now is he? It seems the great Wuffinga line is nothing but a family of cowards where women rule.”

  A red haze swept over Raedwyn at Ceolwulf’s cruel words. This traitor had slandered her family for the last time. Striking like an adder, Raedwyn leapt forward, grabbed a sword that lay atop a pile of weapons to be sharpened, and plunged it at Ceolwulf. She gripped the hilt with both hands as she had seen men do during swordplay, and the sword would have found its mark if another blade had not blocked hers.

  Caelin had stepped in between his father and Raedwyn and stopped her blade a moment before it caught Ceolwulf below his collarbone.

  Ceolwulf reeled back and Raedwyn had the momentary satisfaction of seeing the giant caught off guard. Raedwyn was a tall woman and despite her feminine curves, strong enough even to wield a sword with enough power to kill a man.

  Caelin twisted his blade and tore Raedwyn’s sword from her fingers. Still in a haze of fury, Raedwyn scrambled to retrieve it but Caelin’s foot pressed the sword into the mud, foiling her again. He dropped his own sword and grasped her tightly – one arm clamped across her chest, the other around her neck. Raedwyn struggled, kicked and clawed at Caelin. However, his arms were like two iron bands. He held her fast until her struggles ceased.